There are so many wise lyrics in Joanna Newsom's Only Skin. My favorites today are the ending, where:
but I'm starving and freezing in my measly old bed!
then I'll crawl across the salt flats to stroke your sweet head
come across the desert with no shoes on!
I love you truly, or I love no-one
fire
moves
away
fire moves away, son
why would you say
I was the last one?
clear the room! there's a fire, a fire, a fire
get going, and I'm going to be right behind you
and if the love of a woman or two, dear,
couldn't move you to such heights, then all I can do
is do, my darling, right by you
I used to couldn't stand her, gave my copies of her away. Bad advice I'd felt. Good riddance. But then I listened in my way. And I heard her. I actually heard myself. And I like her too because her themes echo ones I treasure in other music by other women I id with. The idea of cherry tree women. Squid ink drawings. Phoenix/ashes/bombout.
oh Mondays. Why aren't there more coffees in your hours?
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